Natural
by Magical Shovel
Summary: Takes place during KH2. Sorry, no yaoi or slash. D: Death. Laughter. It was only natural. With Xaldin and Demyx gone, Luxord and Xigbar meet for the final time before they encounter the keyblade wielder once and for all.


**Natural**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Kingdom Hearts or the characters. They belongs to SquareEnix. :c

**A/N: **Apologies for the delays! I haven't written fanfics in a bit, because of school. =w= It's sucking the life out of me.

Death wasn't natural. The Freeshooter was sure of it. Then again, Nobodies weren't that natural either. They broke. They bled even if the darkness cleverly concealed those old wounds. Just because there was a ruse of emotions, that did not mean they could not _feel_. There was pain and torment beneath the mask. Oh, how little did they care for the notion? Quite a bit or so it seemed from Xigbar's stance. With a languid stretch, footsteps echoed as he strolled through the Hall of Empty Melodies. As the maskman bent space to do his bidding, he reappeared upside down. There was nothing like having blood rush to your head in order to get the adrenaline going.

A sharp whistle bounced off the hall's grey-tinted walls. This was his turg and there was not a single Nobnody to threaten that. Silence. Absolute and utter silence. It sent chills down his spine, shaking his head at the uncomfortable atmosphere. It was only a matter of time before a meeting was in dire need. _Looks like we've got some free seats_, the graying male mused to himself. Xigbar was used to the familiarity of a presence or two, even three. As an organization, members had their own groups and friendships. Cliques, if you will. There was Axel, Xion, and Roxas. Marluxia and Larxene. Possibly Lexeaus, Zexion, and Vexen. Scratch Vexen. _That old hag doesn't have friends. Whoa, dude! That's a little harsh, even for you, Man._

"I never thought you to be the pensive type, Xigbah."

And then there was them.

Xigbar, Luxord, Xaldin, and Demyx.

"As if, Brit Boy! I'm not the type of dude to go moping about."

Boots found their place back upon the ground. A golden orb met cerulean hues. Once more, there was that disheartening silence. Leather stretched. Hands flexed. Fists clenched. Just your typical staring contest. Friendship didn't always require speech no matter how much of a chatterbox Xigbar was. The blonde smirked, chuckling. The skunk-haired male grinned, snickering. There was the healthy pat of the back and then the folding of arms on Xigbar's behalf. There was no talking. It wasn't necessary. The ruse said it all. Their eyes foretold of the truth.

"Ah, I see. Still, skepticism lingers, not in your tone, but here." Had Luxord rested the palms of his hands on his cvhest, the scene wouldn't have lasted or ended well. Xigbar _would_ have pulled out his dual arrowguns given the chance. Instead, the G ambler tapped his temple with a darkly gloved finger for emphasis. Besides, the blonde had no desire whatsoever to dance upon a floor of vicious bullets. A thin grin twisted the Freeshooter's features. _Smooth move, Brit Boy. Smooth move..._

"Well said, dude. You deserve a round of applause. Thing is, I can't get it out of my mind. Even if the little dude is a dud, he's a clever, little sneak. First, Water Sprite and then Mr. Fuzz. One by one, we're biting the dust. I dunno, Man. If I were you, I'd be pretty paranoid."

Always composed in response, "And you're not?" Luxord's expression was now pensive with a common arch of the brow. A harsh, little chuckle crept out of Xigbar's mouth. This was merely a normal conversation between the two. Witty banter with an undertone of intelligence. "Xigbah," Luxord began once more. The graying male cocked his head, clearly listening to what his fellow member had to say. "It's only natural," he drawled in that intolerably sophisticated accent of his. Xigbar scowled, furrowing his upturned brows in response. There it was again, that bothersome word. What about this nonexistence was natural? What about death? Nope. Nada. Zip.

"Natural?" Xigbar inquired, "The hell is that? Define 'natural' for me, Lux." By now, his arms had drooped by his sides, limp. He used finger quotations at one moment to elaborate the emphasis on that sole word.

It bothered him, Nobody or not.

"Come now. You have the knowledge as to unlocking the definition. If not... Well then, use an Oxford, my friend. Nothing is truly immortal with the capability to endure anything thrown at them. The body is made for exceptional wear and tear, no matter the cost, yet that does not mean it will always prevail."

Boy, was the Brit starting to sound like a fortune cookie or what? Xigbar clucked his tongue, thinking of a way to respond to Luxord. "You know something? You're starting to sound a hell of a lot like Snowflake, dude. With your fancy words n' crap. Hm... Come to think of it, Snowflake sounds way better than Snow Ball or Ice Queen, am I right?" Even at a serious, dramatic moment, Xigbar had to ruin it. Then again, it was his coping mechanism. Humor and sarcasm were his speciality. After all, he was often the comic relief from time to time.

"Most definitely," Luxord responded as he held back the urge to snicker. He signed at his companion, "Perhaps it would do you some good to have a glass of whiskey and a jolly game of Gin Rummy?" It will ease your mind and calm your nerves, my dear friend." Friend or not, the Gambler wasn't going to mention that Saix had sent him here to check on Xigbar. However, the blonde had been 'worried' as to the Freeshooter's antics. He wasn't acting like... himself, if that accounted for much of anything. The marksman was itching for a fight with the keyblade master and history would presumeably repeat itself yet again.

"Tch. As if!" Xigbar carelessly waved a hand at the younger nobody. A mimicry of frustration swirled in his eye like a maelstorm. "Like I'm gonna stand idle, Blondie. Sure, the kiddo's got potential, but he's slicing through our own little group." Always the difficult one. Luxord shook his head, at a true loss for words. It was apparent that no amount of convincing would resolve the problem. In the end, the marksman was bound to act out on his own free will... If that counted for much of anything. The Freeshooter would never betray the Organization. The rhetoric master knew this much or perhaps it was blind faith that led him to this solution. No, it was because of their friendship.

Luxord didn't sigh. Didn't shake his head. Didn't furrow his brows or show aggrevation. His chest heaved as his false heart sunk.

"Well, old chum. How about one last game before we part?"

"Who're _you_ calling old?" A narrowed eye and knitted brows revealed a fire that burned like no other. It was a path of self-destruction with the trigger swiftly pulled. Yet, it was reminiscent of the old times minus a few entities. Once more there was that gleeful grin followed by that hearty chuckle. Xigbar flicked his wrist, loosely waving at Luxord. "Nah, just messing with you, dude. S'pose it couldn't hurt. Gin Rummy? Alright, Lux. It's a done deal," he patted the younger nobody one the back as he spoke. It was a challenge that Xigbar refused to back down from. The smirk never once faded.

They were once four friends with mutual goals, but different methods as to obtaining such. By a single blade, two fell. This would be the last encounter between Luxord and Xigbar aside from the general meetings. That very day they went off on their separate paths to attend to their own duties. For the final time, the Hall of Empty Melodies was filled with a ruse of warmth. Their eyes said it all: blue hues and a golden glimmer. It was only until their cold, bitter laughter filled the hall that triggered the final realization. It was only natural.


End file.
